


I don't think I'm ready for another Chicago winter

by afraid of the dark (theaa)



Category: Cobra Starship, Music RPF, Real Person Fiction, The Academy Is...
Genre: M/M, i'm trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 16:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3388640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theaa/pseuds/afraid%20of%20the%20dark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chicago gets cold in the winter. You’d think having grown up in the city William would be well accustomed to this fact, but he finds it all too easy to underestimate exactly how biting the November wind is far too frequently. But Gabe had called, so of course William had to go meet him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I don't think I'm ready for another Chicago winter

**Author's Note:**

> I recently unearthed this from the depths of my hard-drive. I might have posted it elsewhere but I honestly can't remember, so I thought I'd upload it here. If you recognise it from tumblr or something, don't worry. This is me just playing and it might be ooc because I suck at RPF but whatever. Enjoy.

Chicago gets cold in the winter. You’d think having grown up in the city William would be well accustomed to this fact, but he finds it all too easy to underestimate exactly how biting the November wind is far too frequently. At best he might sling on a hoodie and jam a beanie over the mess he calls his hair, perhaps snag a scarf just before he leaves. Normally he goes out in whatever he’s wearing – and then instantly regrets it, of course.

This shirt, however, is thankfully long sleeved, and William curls his fingers under the cuffs as he walks, trying desperately to stop the tips of his fingers turning blue before he gets to the bar he’s walking to. It hasn’t snowed yet, but the skies above are an angry shade of charcoal and William wonders if it’ll be snowing by the time he gets back. Perhaps he should call a cab for the way home. There’s ice on the sidewalk that he works hard to dodge, knowing that slippery surfaces and his gangly limbs are not the best combination, but he still ends up unintentional skating down the road once or twice – and really he’s debating whether it was worth coming out at all if he might die of frost bite or a broken neck before he even gets there. He thinks of Sisky, probably curled up by the decrepit heater in the apartment, eating a steaming bowl of ramen in front of the tv, and kind of wishes he was back there with him. 

But no – that wasn’t true – Gabe had called, so of course William had to go meet him. If he were being honest with himself there was no way William would have said no, even if there were a scale 9 earthquake happening outside, because it’s Gabe, and William never really grasped the definition of the word ‘no’ around that boy. 

He continues trudging down the block, his sneakers slipping every other step, and hopes Gabe will appreciate the fact that he risked the mobility of his legs to reach him. He probably won’t, though. It’s a relief when he rounds the corner to see the pre-arranged meeting place pop up on the other side of the road, the bright neon sign outside declaring them ‘open’, the windows lit up by a amber glow of light and warmth. He crosses the road hurriedly and pushes the door open, which lets him in with a sort of half-assed jingle. The bar is small, and kind of greasy looking, definitely in need of a new paint job in places. The bar tender looks up from where he’s polishing some glasses with a rag, or rather smearing them further, and gives him a nod. William reaches for his beanie and pulls it off his head, shaking out his long hair and looking around the dimly lit place. There’s only a couple of people there, nursing their beers and chatting quietly to each other, and none of them are Gabe. Excellent. 

He orders a small beer while he’s waiting and takes it to the furthest corner of the place, and settles himself into the booth, where he can see both the door and the wonky clock on the wall. And he waits. The place is practically empty so people watching gets old pretty quickly, and William finds himself running over the song he’d written yesterday in his head, altering lyrics here and there, and wishing he’d bought a notebook with him. After about twenty minutes he’s ready to forget about staying, and chalk Gabe’s non-appearance up to him forgetting or something – there was sure to be some form of excuse when William asked – but he’s stopped by the pathetic sounding jingle on the door and the sight of tall man ducking into the bar, brushing snow flakes from his curls. (Ah so it’s snowing already. Great.) Gabe takes a second to find William, but when he does his face breaks out into a grin and he heads over, a bounce in his step that William thought was impossible for anyone to possess on a day so cold and dreary. 

“Bill!”

William looks up from his beer and smiles faintly, shuffling over when Gabe deposits himself right next to him instead of opposite. “Hey, Gabe.”

“Sorry I’m late dude, I was talking to Pete.”

William guesses he can forgive this, so he just nods and watches while Gabe helps himself to a long swig from the beer he’s only half finished with, smacking his lips together and letting out a hiss of satisfaction after.

“I haven’t seen you in ages Bilvy,” Gabe says casually, “you haven’t been ducking me, have you?”

William realises it might appear that way, but in reality it’s just sort of that recently Gabe hasn’t really asked, or made the effort, and William is spectacularly crap an initiating any of these sort of meet-ups or things. He understands why it looks like he fell off the radar, but Gabe wasn’t the best at keeping contact either. Until now, and then of course William had come running.

William shrugs. “Band stuff, you know – the new album is dropping soon. I guess I’ve just been worried.”

This is also true, but it has nothing to do with not seeing Gabe. Gabe doesn’t seem to clock this though, and slaps a hand onto William’s knee and squeezes. 

“Dude, the album rocks. I’ve heard it remember? Fuck what the reviews based on the preview say – you’re just hoping to please the fans right?”

William bites his lip, and nods. “It’s got a different sound, though.”

“A fucking awesome sound. Bill, if I can make the move from Midtown to Cobra, I think people will survive you becoming the teensiest bit more poppy.”

William cringes at the word ‘poppy’ but he appreciates Gabe’s efforts to calm him down and it’s hard to be so drawn in and wound up about anything when Gabe is with you. As if he knows this, Gabe gives William a slow easy smile and slides out of the booth. “C’mon, what are you having?”

William points to his sort of still there beer, but Gabe just rolls his eyes, picks up the drink and downs it, and then looks at William for an answer.

“Uh, I’ll have another beer?”  
“Yeah, you will.”

Gabe goes up and orders, and William sees him get stopped by the blonde woman on the barstool. He can’t help but wince. Gabe has her giggling in a matter of seconds, Gabe’s little self-satisfied smirk creeps out. The blonde woman’s hand finds its way to his arm, and she leans in like she’s asking him a question, pouting and batting her eyelashes. Gabe looks back to where William is sat, pressed into the corner, and shakes his head, before shrugging and flashing her a winning smile. He grabs the drinks and turns back to the table. He slides the beer across to William and starts guzzling his own.

“What did the girl want?” William asks tentatively. 

Gabe chuckles. “To see if she could join us – I said no. Can’t have us being interrupted, can we?”

That makes William smile a little, at least. Gabe fills him in on all the crazy shit he’s missed (mainly parties he was too lazy to attend) and how he found some old Midtown demos that kind of made him miss the band. He’s talking about recording them for real – but William knows this will never happen. Midtown was never the success Gabe wanted it to be, and although it drew some hard-core fans (William being one of them) he knows Gabe thinks that the audience is no longer there, which could be true. It’s been 4 years, and Gabe’s comfortable with Cobra now, and starting up Midtown again would mean putting himself out there, trying to balance a lot of shit. It wouldn’t work. Then again, Gabe was never very good at sticking to his decisions. 

They chat a bit more until Gabe is vaguely tipsy on a few beers, and William is just about finishing his second. He doesn’t feel like drinking tonight so he watches Gabe teeter on the edge of intoxication instead. 

“Don’tcha miss the old times, Bill? Like what the fuck happened to 2006? That was a fucking great year. It was only two years ago.”

William thinks back to touring with Cobra, the excitement over making Santi and finds himself nodding. Recording ‘Fast Times’ felt different, like a last ditch attempt to meld the whole band back together. God knows nostalgia’s been a pretty prevalent theme in his life recently – hence a whole album dedicated to graduating high school – but really, it’s like Gabe can read his mind. He misses the ‘I have no idea where this is going and I don’t care’ attitude that seemed so easy to adopt a couple of years ago, touring and fucking shit up and having fun whilst doing it. Now his future is suddenly looking shaky.

“God, yeah,” he replies wistfully. 

Gabe frowns at him and hooks an arm around his shoulder, sighing.

“You’ll always have me, Bilvy, okay? Whether it’s 2008 or two thousand and fucking twenty-eight.”

William laughs and hunches into Gabe’s one-armed hug. “Okay, Gabey-baby.”

He wrinkles his nose at the nickname, but lets it slide, like he always does. “Les prometo que me voy a quedar,” he says, making William scrunch up his eyebrows. He doesn’t know Spanish, really, apart from picking up a few words from being around Gabe so much, who likes to slip into it every now and again. He thinks he caches the word ‘promise’ and heck; he’s ready to take any promises Gabe is willing to make, as they’re few and far between these days. 

“Good,” he answers, though of course he’s not sure exactly what Gabe just said. The pair smile at each other anyway. 

Eventually they pay the bar bill and leave, and William stands on the sidewalk, which is already dusted with snow, while Gabe says good-bye. He climbs into a taxi and shouts out the window about ringing soon, and William nods like he will when he probably won’t. 

He watches the cab speed away down the road, feeling the snowflakes catch in the hair not stuffed back under his beanie again, and scuffs his shoes on the sidewalk before starting to plod back home. Turns out he didn’t bring the money for a taxi with him anyway.

William’s been in love with Gabe for so long that it’s not really something he tries to fight anymore – it kind of just is. If only he wasn’t so damn scared of coming on too strong, or giving himself away – he’d probably ring Gabe tomorrow. As it is, he just trails home, disturbing the freshly settled snow, which is already turning to slush, and wonders at what age you’re meant to develop a backbone, so he can finally tell Gabe how he feels. 

Xxx

It’s a week later and the Chicago winter has really set in by now. The cold makes the air feel sharp, on skin and on your throat as you pull it into your lungs. Which is why William isn’t exactly thrilled to be standing by the back of a club, blowing air into his clasped hands in an attempt to keep the feeling in them, whilst Gabe lights up next to him. Today he at least has a leather jacket hung on his skinny frame, but it’s a small blessing. The cold rips through it anyway. Gabe seems unconcerned and focuses on keeping the flame at the end of his lighter alive long enough to set his cigarette going. It splutters out around five times before it catches and Gabe takes a drag and sighs contentedly.

“How you can stand to be out here right now, I don’t even know.”

Gabe shrugs and flicks the ashes off the end of his smoke. “The music in there was driving me nuts. It’s better out here.”

 

William raises an eyebrow. “Dude, you were the one who called me and wanted to come here.” Which was a total surprise, but a nice one, which did admittedly send William into somewhat of a nervous fluster. 

“Yeah, I know. I just didn’t know the music sucked. It was supposed to be a good night.”

“And it isn’t a good night?” William can’t help but feel a little hurt, because Gabe’s sort of implying that just being out with him isn’t enough to enjoy himself, but as always Gabe saves himself and flashes William a wide toothy smile, jabbing his elbow lightly into his stomach.

“’Course it is Bilvy-boy. I’m out with you aren’t I? The music was just giving me a headache.”

Gabe always knows exactly what to say, can read William like a number one bestseller, it appears. William relaxes and gives him a smile in return. “The music or the copious amount of whiskey and coke you’ve had?”

Gabe laughs and ends up choking on the smoke he’s exhaling. “Nah, the headache for that comes tomorrow.”

“Right.” There’s a pause in conversation and William stamps his feet a little, trying to waylay frost bite in his toes too. Gabe looks at him amusedly. 

“Having fun there?”

“It’s fucking freezing.”

“Nah, it’s not.” Gabe dismisses quickly, taking another drag and blowing perfect smoke rings into the night. William thinks wryly that this is something he’s probably practiced at home.

“Yeah because you’re a mixture of high and drunk right now, of course you won’t feel the cold.”

Gabe’s in dark wash jeans and a navy blue shirt, a vintage brown leather jacket thrown over the top. Whereas William’s jacket is zipped up, Gabe’s hangs open, revealing the low v-neck on his shirt and the smooth chest underneath. Not that William’s looking. 

But or course he is. 

But what he’s not seeing is goose bumps, which is kind of incredible.

Gabe finishes his cigarette and flicks the smouldering remains out into the back alley where they land in a puddle (that’s near icing over, William notes). Gabe turns towards William and smirks. “Why? You cold Bilvy?”

William rolls his eyes because if the way his nose is turning pink isn’t making it obvious, he doesn’t know what will. “Alright, alright, you’re not cold. Har har,” he deadpans.

Gabe reaches out and snatches William’s hands from where he’s been blowing on them, and starts rubbing them inside his own calloused palms. Gabe’s hands are like hot water bottles – William puts it down to his hot-blooded Spanish heritage. The act is surprisingly tender for Gabe and William has to try and hide his blush and hopes Gabe doesn’t notice. After a minute of awkward hand rubbing where William isn’t quite sure what to say, Gabe steps back and releases him. “There. Better?”

The tingling sensation in his fingertips has disappeared, so William nods gratefully. “Yeah, loads.” He reaches up to tuck some of his long hair behind his ear, suddenly self-conscious, and Gabe watches him a second before taking a step towards him again. 

“Anywhere else cold?” Gabe’s voice is low – William would even label it sultry after hearing the same tone directed at many girls (and men) over time in Gabe’s efforts to pick them up. It makes William blink because he’s never heard it aimed at himself before, not really, 

“Uhmm…” Then he thinks he imagines the tone, because after all it was an innocent enough question. William would answer that his toes are feeling a bit frosty, but somehow he still doesn’t think this is the answer Gabe is looking for, the way Gabe is shuffling forward until his extra inches make him tower over William.

“Nowhere at all?” Gabe asks again, one eyebrow raised expertly, looking pointedly at William’s mouth.

William doesn’t know what the heck is going on, to be honest, but he thinks… he thinks this might just be it. The big IT. The IT he’s kindasortof dreamed about for years. Gabe making a move.

Which, he actually feels uncomfortable about, because this weird come hither tone and weird questions? Not how he pictured it. 

So he takes a step back, and immediately Gabe frowns. “What’s the matter?”

“Uhm, this? What were you doing?”

Gabe stares at him like it’s obvious. “Flirting?”

Oh.

So he was right. William blushes again, pale skin lighting up like the stop sign down the street. “Uhm okay. But I’m not just some random dude you’re trying to take home.”

“I know that!” Gabe says, throwing out his arms. “I just – fuck you were being so adorable and I don’t know I wanted to kiss you. I guess I just don’t know how to go about doing that with you.”

William doesn’t know whether to laugh of be stunned. Gabe thinks he’s adorable. Gabe wants to kiss him. Is the world tipping on its axis yet?  
William shrugs. “Kiss me, then.”

“For real?” Gabe asks, and it’s not sultry or anything. It’s actually kind of vulnerable. William gets that, because if he’d played along earlier, Gabe probably could have passed the moment off as drunken antics, or a joke, or a test in his pulling ability the next morning. With this straight out question, there’s no hiding the intention, or its implications. Gabe looks terrified.

“Yes, for real,” William says, trying to keep his voice calm and collected, and succeeding, mostly. There’s a tiny warble and he thinks Gabe notices. He looks unsure for a second, but then he leans in and places his lips gently over William’s in a slow, subtle kiss, their mouths moving gently against each other, just the barest hint of tongues, but it makes William tingle all the way down to his toes – and this time it’s not the cold.

In fact, Gabe’s breath is warm on his skin as he pulls away, a sheepish smile sliding onto his face. Internally he’s screaming, jumping up and down and whooping for joy, but in reality, William’s mind has apparently shirt circuited so the best thing he thinks of to say, instead of ‘that kiss was life-alteringly good’, is to ask whether Gabe wants to head back inside again. 

Gabe shakes his head, curly hair bouncing. “Not really no, not when I can do this here.”

And he kisses William again, all tongue and scraping teeth, and it starts a small fire in William’s gut, hot and bright enough to keep the cold at bay for just a little while longer. Behind the kiss, he can feel Gabe smiling as he reels William in closer. Now’s not the time to say ‘I love you’ but he thinks Gabe can tell anyway – besides they’ve proven before that they don’t need words to communicate.


End file.
